Masks She Wore
by lady winde
Summary: How far would you go to save the one you love? Would the secrets you unveil piece by devastating piece break away at your resolve? With doubt and uncertainty clouding your heart, would you be able to follow one simple rule? AkihikoXFemChar; After Nyx.
1. Chapter 1: A Period of Mourning

**Masks She Wore**

How far would you go to save the one you love? Would the secrets you unveil piece by devastating piece break away at your resolve? Would the truth beneath circumstance change your perspective and your overall decision to bring your beloved back? With doubt and uncertainty clouding your heart, would you be able to follow _one simple rule?_

_**Chapter 1: A Period of Mourning**_

"I remember now," Akihiko tightened his embrace, brushing his cheek against Kieka Arisato's as he relished the familiar warmth in his arms and lap. "Everything that happened."

She lay cradled in his arms, exhausted, on the stone bench. Her legs were outstretched with her heels just reaching the end of their seat. Her slow and even breaths tickled his ear as he continued much to his amusement, "The fighting, Tartarus, all of it and…" He leaned back slightly, memorizing every precious detail before him: the shadows on her pale cheeks cast there by the long lashes of her half lidded eyes, the glossy sheen of her hair in the sunlight, the way her tired smile graced her pink lips, and her eyes, as red as the purest ruby, quivered with unshed tears . They looked so incredibly tired, yet within their scarlet brilliance there was no mistaking that the young woman in his arms regarded him with the same affection as he her.

His grey eyes trembled with emotion as he reached up with a gloved hand to cup her cheek, his thumb gently sliding against the lone fat tear that escaped her lowered lashes. "And… how I fell in love with you."

With that breathy confession did her tears pour forth; she parted her lips yet no words were able to escape. All Kieka could do was helplessly look up at Akihiko who regarded her with such raw and naked adoration, that it took what little breath she had left away. Always was she amazed by this private side of himself that he had only ever shown to her.

He leaned forward, tenderly brushing his lips against hers. "I'm sorry I forgot it all…"

The solitary mechanical maiden, Aigis, watched from the roof's railing, unwilling to interrupt the reunion of sorts, wiping her tears away with her robotic fingers. A gentle breeze brought the shouts and sounds of the other companions' hurried footsteps up the stairwell, signaling that whatever time the two had alone was coming to an abrupt end.

Akihiko could only smile at all the yelling and noise behind them, "Everyone remembers now." He smiled wide as he looked back at the open door, his gloved fingers gently squeezed Kieka. They all managed to remember. Their promise was kept.

Today was… nice.

Perfect.

The sun kissed the top of their heads and the cool spring breeze gently teased their hair. This was their moment, atop the roof of Gekkoukan High. The cherry blossoms could be seen from below as well as the ocean that surrounded the man-made island, its waters shimmering in the light. There would be no more shadows, no more dark hour. All that lay before them was to live out their lives as it was meant to be. As Junpei and the others poured through the roof's exit, Akihiko lowered his lips to Kieka's forehead. He had noticed her eyes were closed, the last of her tears shed and a small smile left on her lips.

"And starting now, we'll never be apart."

-!-!-!-!-

_Ever so slowly his eyes dared to open, the deep darkness should have alarmed him, but it was proving to be an all too familiar sight. He knew all too well what was to happen next. His movements came fluidly, as if he was following the script of a well rehearsed play. Tonight, Akihiko Sanada would play his part well. He dusted off his khaki's as he slowly stood up, his feet finding purchase on unseen ground. Hesitantly, he took a step forward. The shattering of glass echoed painfully in his ears, the disquieting shock of it bringing him down to his knees._

_With clenched fists and gritted teeth, he painfully endured the girlish peals of laughter as he regained his composure._

_"Don't be afraid, big brother."_

_"He's afraid!" _

_"Big brother will never rescue me now." _

_"He'll never have the power to save us. He never could attain the strength he so desperately wanted… All that training done for nothing."_

_"Never, never?"_

_"Never, never."_

_An agonizing wail tore through his throat as he sprinted towards nothing, clawing his way back to his feet. What could he have done? How could he have saved them? What excuses could he muster up? He had been far too young and small to fight his way into the fires to save his sister. Despite the strength he had gained since then, it had still not been enough to withstand Nyx's assault and pull Kieka back before she had taken her leave of him and the rest of S.E.E.S. There was nothing that could be said, for he knew no matter how many syllables of regret he could utter, not a single one would bring his Kie-chan or little sister back._

_"He's running away! Don't leave me, big brother!"_

_"Aki…"_

_As he ran, two figures, that of a small girl and a young woman, slowly emerged from the darkness. The little girl was as cute as could be, silver hair pulled up in pigtails, her grey eyes were wide with fright as she clung to the edge of the pleated skirt of the older girl beside her. Her small dress was an old and frayed simple hand-me-down from the orphanage she had once stayed. Familiar red stared sadly at Akihiko, as Kieka soothed Miki with a comforting hand, her fingers gently patting the younger girl's silver hair._

_"You're too late," Kieka's voice was but a whisper, the devastating words paralyzed Akihiko just as he reached them._

_"No! I can do this! Every time, you stop me! Why, Kieka!" His voice cracked; his words full of unbelievable heartbreak._

_The small girl looked up to Akihiko; a shy smile adorned her face, a dimple in each cheek. "You've gotten handsome, big brother." Just as her tiny fingers touched the fabric of his pant leg, flames consumed her to ash. An unfeeling Kieka was quickly turned to stone, shortly shattering around him. And he was powerless to stop it all. _

Dark lashes flew open as he flung the bedspread off him. Pale fingers cupped his face, as broken sobs wracked through a sweat slicked Akihiko.

The nightmares had become more frequent, but tonight had been the first night that…

Clumsily, a hand searched the bedside table for his cell phone. He dialed a familiar number in the darkness and hastily he brought the phone to his ear. His bedside clock showed 12:01am. He shuddered as he fought to quiet his sobs, a shaky exhale leaving his lips as he rubbed his eyes. The red curtains along his windows were slightly parted, allowing the dim light of a lamppost to sneak in; the fluttering of snowflakes outside caught his attention, their whimsical shadows dancing over his morose face.

The ringing stopped and a gruff voice came from the end of the line in answer, "Again?" The familiar voice comforted Akihiko despite its terse tone.

A pause, "Yeah, it was different this time… than all the others."

There was a grunt, "I can't keep babysitting your ass every time you wet the bed, Aki."

Akihiko wiped his forehead clean of sweat, "Y-yeah I know. Just get over when you can." And with that he shut the phone off and fell back into the sweat dampened bed. For the past year, he had been trying to move forward with his life, something he knew in his heart that _she_ would have wanted.

Upon discovering her true fate as a statue sealing and guarding the golden doors to Nyx from a raging Erebus, an embodiment of negative human emotions, he and the others had promised each other to live positively. They were ready to do anything to help ease the burden that Kieka had taken upon herself, an action she had taken to protect the ones she loved most and held so dear to her heart; even if it meant leaving everyone behind with no hope of respite.

Akihiko could put on a fake smile and pretend for her, but his heart would not be so easily fooled.

Her death had struck such a devastating blow to his psyche.

-!-!-!-!-

"Get out of my way," Shinjiro shoved his way past Akihiko and kicked the door shut, paper grocery bags held effortlessly in his arms. "And stay out of the kitchen."

The silver haired young man rubbed his arms as he fell back against the door, "You didn't have to get anything." The glower shot his way was enough to stop that train of thought, "I hope you don't mind if I watch then…"

The man in the kitchen merely shrugged as he deftly and swiftly organized his cooking ingredients and utensils. Shinjiro hadn't changed at all. If anything, Akihiko had noticed, the dark sullen edge that usually colored his friend's dark brown eyes had been replaced with a fierce unyielding determination.

October fourth was the day Shinji was supposed to have died protecting Ken Amada, but by some miracle of sorts he had held on despite the fact he had faced death head on without looking back. When he awoke from his coma, he had rushed over to the S.E.E.S dorm. That day was, coincidentally, the day Kieka had fallen into her deep sleep. The day after that had been…the day she had passed on.

"_So that's how it's going to be," _was all Shinji could say. His hushed tone and pained inflection had not been lost on Aki.

After Kieka's death, Shinji had disappeared for a few days. When he had returned to the dorm, he had remained a stoic pillar of strength. Since then he had been at his friend's side at a moment's notice, regardless of what situation he was currently in, something Akihiko had been thankful for.

The lone wolf started attending classes again, taking any extra credit he could get to graduate by the end of the spring semester. Once the certificate had been in his hand, he had enrolled in culinary school.

"You didn't eat, right?" Gruff tones broke Akihiko out of his musing.

The young man shook his head as a hand rubbed the plains of his abdomen, the fabric of his shirt crinkling slightly along with the movement, "I had forgotten."

"Idiot."

Akihiko pushed himself away from the unyielding wood of his door and made his way to the island counter of his kitchen. As he sat himself on the stool, Shinjiro stood in the middle of the kitchen, his hair tied back and a red apron around his waist, skillfully twirling a spatula in his hand. The ingredients had been expertly chopped and liquids carefully measured. Pork was already sautéing in vegetable oil while onions, carrots, and potatos and other ingredients patiently waited nearby.

"Smells good. What are you making?" Aki folded his arms neatly before him, leaning forward to get a better view.

Shinji carefully eyed the pork, "Nikujaga. And I don't want to hear you bitching about the curry."

Aki wisely kept his mouth shut.

"So, tell me, what happened?" The cook turned his back to Aki as he added the potato quarters, onion wedges, and bite sized carrot chunks into the pot, the oil sizzling in protest.

The young man at the counter lowered his lashes, slowly resting his chin on the back of his hands, the edge of the counter biting at his elbows. "They died this time."

"How?"

Akihiko's brow creased in agitation, not wanting to recall the details. He recalled his young, sweet sister's skin blistering in the heat of the fire, seeing it melt her away into nothing. He could see Kieka's unfeeling expression turn to stone and then crumble below his fingertips. Together, their screams whispered in his ears.

"Miki burned to ash. Kie-chan was turned to stone."

There was a pregnant pause, Shinjiro's attention never leaving that of the food. "After dinner, we're heading to the shrine."

Akihiko's silver eyes darkened, he knew a challenge when he heard one. "Why?"

Shinjiro quickly turned his back to the food, pointing the spatula accusingly at his friend. He looked directly into Aki's eyes, holding his gaze hostage while the corners of his lips dipped into a stern frown, "When was the last time you talked to her? Made your peace?" He arched an eyebrow.

"Not s-since the funeral." Akihiko's ears felt like they were burning, and he couldn't help but drop his gaze to the counter, studying the blue tile intently. Guilt and shame weighed heavily on his shoulders.

Something akin to a sneer briefly washed over Shinji's face as he returned to cooking his food, "You're such an asshole."

The boxer slammed his fists on the counter in response, "What was that?"

"You heard me." The man in the kitchen added curry to the sauté, not caring what buttons he pushed. "Sit your ass back down on that stool; I'm not in the mood."

Begrudgingly, Akihiko sank down to his seat, fists clenched as he glared at the counter before him. He knew in his heart that he wasn't really angry with Shinji… and perhaps Shinjiro knew that as well. Akihiko remained seated there in sullen silence until his childhood friend carefully finished cooking their meal.

-!-!-!-!-

Snow crunched beneath their feet as they climbed the steep stairs toward Naganaki Shrine. Silence had been their companion for the duration of the car ride, "Kimi No Kioku" had been playing on the radio and neither had the heart to change the station. Snow dusted their hair, the misty clouds of their breath puffed around with each of their exhales.

A handmade scarf was snuggly wrapped around Aki's neck.

Akihiko could hear each step with excruciating clarity. He didn't want to be here, the sense of dread and foreboding was ensnaring his legs, acting as chains until finally their weight made him come to a standstill. He overlooked the shrine with uneasiness.

Shinjiro stopped in his tracks, "I ain't holding hands with you to make sure you keep up like a good little boy. Step it up."

"When was the last time you were here, Shinji?"

"Yesterday," his gruff reply held a hint of agitation.

"And before that?"

The taller man, warily eyed the boxer from the corner of his eye, his lips were pursed in a thin line, "The day before and so on and so forth." And with that, Shinjiro thrust his cold hands into the warm pockets of his burgundy pea coat, walking onward and leaving behind a shamed Akihiko.

Snowflakes gently caressed Akihiko's cheeks as he stood there, the memory of Kieka closing her eyes for the final time fresh in his mind. She had been oblivious to his sweet endearments, lost beyond time and sense to the gates of Nyx. Aki could clearly remember the tears that had welled in her eyes as she looked up at him, the meaning behind their apologetic message completely ignored by his selfish joy.

Gloved fingers shook the snow off his hair, smoothing the edges before he continued on.

Second floor, fourth compartment to the right... Shinjiro was staring at the small digital screen before him, a picture of a cheerful Kieka gazing back. The picture was something an aunt or another distant relative had supplied for the funeral. Mitsuru had insisted on paying for the funeral fees, something those remaining of the Arisato family wouldn't decline. Yet, once all the preparations had been made and the funeral service completed, not a single one had come to visit Kieka's remains. Rumors of the now deceased branch of their family being unlucky or cursed had been quietly whispered among the remaining Arisatos during the wake, something the rest of the family members didn't want to catch.

It pissed Shinji off.

Akihiko ascended the last step with trepidation. He carefully stepped onto the threshold. Shinji remained standing before the final resting place of Kieka, hands in his pockets and shoulders slumped.

"I'd think out of all us, you'd have been the one to visit her most." Shinji's words echoed in the hall. "I think Ken comes by at least twice a week. I know the girls do so every so often." His head sharply turned to Aki, motioning with a slight shrug to head on over.

With slow and steady steps Aki was finally there. He stared at the touch screen monitor, options to look at past pictures of the deceased or to leave a message shining brightly. The two men simply stood there, gazing where she remained. Time stoically marched on.

A tired sigh escaped Shinjiro's lips as he scratched at the back of his neck, "I'll be waiting in the car. Take your time."

Akihiko jerked his head up, "Why don't I just go with you now?"

"You ain't allowed to leave until you speak to her. Get it _all_ out." Shinjiro pulled up his collar and shoved his hands into his pocket. "I better see an additional message when I come tomorrow." He started to head down the stairs, his footsteps echoing lightly, "or your ass is getting beat straight to hell."

Grimacing in protest, Akihiko shook his head as thumb and forefinger pinched the bridge of his nose. What could he say?

Kieka emerged in his drifting thoughts: her cheerful smile, how he could get lost in her eyes, the way she'd sit and listen intently, and how her hair had always seemed to smell of strawberries. She had been something alright. He looked up helplessly at the screen. With a hesitant hand he reached up, forefinger hovering over the option he knew he needed to choose.

Oh how he missed her.

His finger descended, its destination reached.

A soothing voice, though its inflections were flat, echoed throughout the hall, "Please wait until the beep to begin recording your message. Thank you." A few beats passed, thought it seemed an eternity, and then… _BEEP!_

"Ah… H-hey there," Aki clenched his fists, hating how awkward he sounded. "It's, it's been a long time hasn't it?" He smiled inwardly at his question, knowing that of course there would be no response, "Time sure does fly doesn't it?" He lowered his eyes, observing the slight scuff mark on the wall just below the monitor. "Yeah…

"I'm sorry that I… haven't visited here at all. I always meant to. I just… I don't know. I couldn't bring myself to come here. But just because I haven't been here doesn't mean I don't care or anything. I do. A great deal."

He licked his lips as he continued, eyes never straying from the monitor. "It's been hard you know? Trying to move on, but I've been doing my best, things considering. First year of college is mostly done with. Thought about dropping boxing as a possible career; doesn't mean I won't still get in the ring." He smiled though it didn't meet his eyes, "Gotta keep in top shape, right?"

Akihiko crossed his arms, gloved hands rubbing his sleeves to warm himself despite the coat and scarf he wore. "Maybe I might lend a hand at being part of something bigger. Perhaps an officer like Kurosawa-San or hell maybe even Interpol." His smile faded as he lowered his eyes, hands slowly coming to a rest on each elbow, "It's been pretty hard to concentrate, you… y-you're there every day in my thoughts and my dreams."

He paused, fighting back the tears that threatened to pour forth. Aki was so tired of crying and least of all he didn't want to do it now, not when he was trying to "speak" with her.

Akihiko sniffed and continued on despite the painful lump in his throat, "I guess… you know I was pretty angry with you once we all found out you did what you did." The mental image of Kieka turned to stone, arms outstretched and affixed before large golden doors as Erebus clawed at the stone to breach the entrance flashed in his mind. "I mean I understand I think but I wish I had been there to help carry that burden alongside you that way you," his voice fell into a pained whisper, "wouldn't have to be alone."

He tilted his head back, dark grey eyes looking at the monitor through lowered lashes. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, agitated. "I'd do anything to have you back here, anything to be able to hold you, kiss you. Tell you I love you again." His hand reached up to rake his fingers through his hair, but they came to rest at his temple as he thought back to each moment they shared. The first time they met in the dorm, the time he came to his senses in the hotel on Shirakawa Boulevard only to find himself clad in merely a short towel and stroking the cheek of a blushing Kieka, to the roof of Gekkoukan High where he had asked her to be his girl and she had accepted.

The lights flickered briefly; Kieka's monitor however remained constant, though Akihiko paid it no mind.

"I feel like I took all our time for granted and there's no way to go back and treasure each and every second as I should have or … hell, even change the past but… I'm thankful for the memories. So thankful…" Tears began to slide down his face and he couldn't help but laugh. He was plenty appreciative Shinji had left him in peace or he was sure he'd never hear the end of it.

Aki managed a chuckle as he wiped away at his eyes, "I guess Shinji having to drag me here is proof I never really deserved you, you… who were so kind and gentle and knew how to take the lead so fearlessly and effortlessly." He rested his forehead against the smooth marble before him, his eyes studying the toe of his shoe. "You were the one that brought us all together, helped us when we were down and for some reason along the way you chose _me_."

He placed a gloved palm on the locked door just above the monitor, her cremated remains sealed behind it, "Thank you for that."

There was a pause as he sniffed.

"When you left us, you were smiling. It was so tired but it held a hint of peace … You looked so beautiful and that smile? I'll never forget it for as long as I live." He stared at the picture with red rimmed eyes, her cheerful face looking back.

"I love you, Kieka, and even if it means we'll never see each other whether it be in this life or the next… I don't think I could ever stop loving you. You've left your mark and," he placed a hand over his heart, fingers tightly clutching at his coat, as if covering a wound that threatened to burst open, "somehow some way," his voice cracked as he began to sob yet he continued on, his throat aching with each word uttered, "I'll be a man worthy of that love you gave so freely. I swear it."

-!-!-!-!-

A gentle knock on the passenger car window was all Shinjiro needed to hear to unlock the doors. He studied Akihiko as he climbed in. Snow was barely noticeable in his white hair, his eyes were red and puffy, and his cheeks were flushed from the cold. Once Akihiko fastened his seatbelt, Shinji turned the key. The car started without a hitch.

The drive to the apartment had been a quiet one. The radio this time had been turned off. Aki glanced down at the radio clock; the time shone a quarter to three.

"It's pretty late," Aki leaned back in his seat as he observed the changing of scenery along the way home. All was quiet, most places dark and the moon was nearly full. "I got an extra blanket and pillow you can use."

Shinjiro merely grunted, his hands relaxing on the steering wheel, "I hope you don't expect breakfast."

Akihiko merely smiled, knowing just what to say. He rubbed his eyes as he fought back a yawn. "Nah, don't worry about it. I have a stash of protein bars I usually eat before a run."

The man behind the wheel could only snort in disgust, "I honestly don't see how you can keep ingesting that shit. Just so you know we're going to the store in the morning. After breakfast though I gotta jet. Test coming up."

"Ah right," the young boxer adjusted his scarf yet stopping midway as he glanced at Shinjiro. "Thanks for coming over and… taking me over here."

"Yup."

The rest of the car ride was in silence and that night, after so long, Akihiko finally had a deep and dreamless sleep.

* * *

_Phew! I meant to have this up a few days ago but I kept getting dragged into that place in the world they call "outside." Scary place! I juggled the names Hamuko and Minako around... annnnd I just couldn't do it. T_T Everytime I see Minako I think of Sailor Venus and knowing how the japanese fanbase came up with Hamuko from a screenshot (and that it makes me think of bacon .) I went ahead and kept the surname of the male protagonist from the persona 3 manga but decided to use the first name I chose for my initial playthrough. I know different names for the same character through out different fics can be a bit ugh but yeah. You have my apologies!_

_Anyways a big shout out to my best friend and beta IceyCold. You are my muse, my goddess of all things awesome. Without you, this chapter would be incoherent with ramblings of daisies randomly thrown around within the text. She plucked them all. I need to buy her a vase. T_T_

_All in all I hope you guys enjoyed this. It has begunnnnn /insanecackle. See you all next chapter. :)_

_-LW _


	2. Chapter 2: Semblance of Normalcy

**Masks She Wore**

How far would you go to save the one you love? Would the secrets you unveil piece by devastating piece break away at your resolve? Would the truth beneath circumstance change your perspective and your overall decision to bring your beloved back? With doubt and uncertainty clouding your heart, would you be able to follow _one simple rule?_

_**Chapter 2: Semblance of Normalcy **_

Yellows and pinks were slowly bleeding through dark blue clouds, the pale hues hinting at the leisurely ascending sun, heralding the start of the hustle and bustle of the city. Frosty air bit at Akihiko's chilled cheeks and reddened nose, his steady breath misted around his mouth in cloudy puffs as he jogged through the early wet winter morning. Akihiko felt great. The light rain continued to drizzle as cars drove past, each in their respective crowded lanes. A bicyclist or two passed his way, and there were a few dog owners about walking their pets despite the morning chill.

There was nothing he loved more than a quick morning run to start his day.

Running down an incline toward the end of the block, the neighborhood flowering before him flourished with activity despite the early hours of the day. Window washers were out and about scraping off snow from shop windows, washing the glass beneath. The local pastry chefs were in their shops, hurriedly preparing today's quota of needed delicacies. So much was happening and the day had barely begun. His grin was that of satisfaction. It marveled him how people continued on, oblivious to the impending doom that had literally hovered over them nearly a year ago. January 31st 2011 was closing in fast.

Junpei had wanted a quick get together to celebrate the coming anniversary. The "We Faced Death and Kicked Its Ass" party he declared; his excited and shrill voice through the phone had sent Akihiko's ears ringing. Yukari, Fuuka, and Ken had said they might attend, though the original S.E.E.S. members had politely declined.

Mitsuru Kirijo was overseeing the Kirijo Group, a corporation that had its hand in most things that dealt with the man-made island of Iwatodai. She handled the reins as her father would, seeing to it that her status as a woman could not be used to "undermine her authority." Despite her rejecting the invitation, as Akihiko understood it, she did feel a bit of regret. They had all been comrades, but most of all they had come to share a bond that could not be severed.

Shinjiro Aragaki, not one for crowds anyway and some would argue not a people person, had culinary school. He had never been one to think of himself as anything particularly significant or talented. He had been fine lurking in the shadows, watching and standing up for those if he needed to. Cooking had come naturally, and even then it didn't seem so huge a deal. Proper nutrition and a good meal was something everyone should have and should know how to prepare. To him, it was just as simple as that.

And then there was Akihiko. It had been at least two weeks since his last nightmare and finally being able to face the final resting place of Kieka Arisato. Life had meaning and he was no longer struggling to focus ahead while only wishing to gaze at a past he could not hope to correct. He finally attained a peace of mind he hadn't thought possible. Life was moving on, just as it was meant to.

In memory of a girl who had saved the world, someone who had managed to touch their hearts with but a hint of a smile, they had both silently agreed from that night onward to visit her. Shinji would prepare a meal and from Akihiko's apartment they would make their way to the grave apartments beside Naganaki Shrine to pay their respects. With each visit and onward, the weight of his burden slowly began to ease.

-!-!-!-!-

His philosophy professor closed today's class with a few statements, today's topic being "What defines a personal identity?" Akihiko's final class finally came to an end. Aki began to gather his heavy textbooks into his leather book bag and already he could feel lingering eyes travel up and down his form, girlish whispers and quiet giggling mingling with mindless chatter.

He sighed inwardly.

Akihiko was by no means an unattractive man. His hair was a nice shade of white and in the sun it gleamed as if it were spun silver. His skin was pale despite how often he trained outside and, of course, due to his dedication to training his physique was to be admired.

Expertly, he dodged and deflected his way past his admirers, he had come to notice, much to his exasperation, that college women were much more persistent and much bolder. There had only been one instance where he had nearly lost his calm demeanor. One of his admirers, a pretty girl with confident green eyes who linked her arm with his, dared to ask if he was still pining for _that dead girl._ He had looked her square in the eyes, doing his best to fight off the sneer that hinted in his features as he detached her arm from his, replying that he had yet to meet a woman that could be her equal, least of all herself.

Since that day the amount of admirers had dwindled down, but there were those that were quite pleased to admire him from afar.

From the university he would jog, though in this instance walking suited him just fine, toward the substation. The ambience of the train always seemed to sap what strength he had. The chatter among people, the dulcet tones of the announcer when destinations were seconds away, to the random cry of the tracks as the train braked would always send his thoughts far off. To the past, the future, never looking at anything in particular… Life was so ordinary.

Hagakure was to be today's destination.

A female announcer's cheerily spoke over the train's intercom, "We are arriving at Iwatodai's Central Station. Those on standby please clear the exits. Passengers please exit to the left."

The metal doors swooshed open and the passengers poured forth, eager to head home and call it a day. With his bag in hand he disembarked.

"Ah, hello Sanada-Senpai."

Akihiko pivoted on heel, facing the young boy who had called out to him. The little boy's dusty brown hair shined in the sun and his eyes matched the color of his hair. Ken Amada, now twelve years of age, greeted the boxer with a smile. He had grown a few inches, his face was slightly thinner, and yet he still carried himself with a maturity that could rival other adults; Junpei came to mind.

Ken wore an orange hoodie over a cream colored sweatshirt with jeans and a pair of worn sneakers, and his back pack was held tightly in his small hands. It dawned on Aki that Ken was now in his last year of elementary school; the age of middle school was fast approaching, as was the change of seasons.

"I almost didn't recognize you," Akihiko said approvingly with a lopsided grin.

The young boy's eyes grew almost as wide as his smile, "Oh yeah?" If there had been one constant poor Ken had struggled with, it had definitely been his small stature. Milk had been his choice of beverage with most meals, and sometimes in between meals as well. Aki had remembered hearing low groaning on the other side of the door to the poor boy's dorm room from time to time, sometimes with the pained words _"I hate milk."_ At the time, Akihiko could only shake his head and walk on, sometimes thinking he should devise a work out regime for Ken.

But then a rivalry for the lovely Kieka's affection between the two seemed to appear out of nowhere and so he had dropped those plans altogether. Akihiko wasn't one for sharing, joking around or not.

"Yeah… you've grown quite a bit over the year," Akihiko pulled the leather strap of his bag farther up his shoulder, the weight of his college textbooks refusing to be forgotten.

Despite the awkward rivalry they had shared, Ken had always regarded Akihiko with awe and respect. Such praise from the undefeated boxing champ of Gekkoukan High meant the world to the young boy; his smile certainly showed it. "R-really? I, I mean well that's certainly nice to hear."

Akihiko couldn't help but grin, "How have you been, Ken?"

"Well… It's my last year as an elementary student," Ken crossed his arms, his brow furrowed as he looked to the side in thought. "I'm pretty interested in seeing what middle school will have to offer," He smiled as he looked up to an amused Akihiko. "And it'll be nice to change to a more mature environment."

Aki arched eyebrow. "More mature, huh?"

Ken shuffled from side to side, shifting his weight from foot to foot, in embarrassment. His cheeks colored as he stammered on, "W-well it'll be nice to be away from the younger group of kids anyways."

Ken Amada had always been trying so hard to grow faster than he could. It had not only baffled Akihiko, but the other member of S.E.E.S. He seemed right at home at the dorm as the only elementary student surrounded by High schoolers. Since the Nyx incident, he had thankfully began to relax a little, watching anime from time to time, and once Aki remembered catching Ken reading manga while he carried off the last of his belongings that fateful day he moved out of the dorm.

Akihiko noticed the Featherman R keychain dangling from the pocket of Ken's hoodie, "I'm sure you'll do fine." The boxer simply smiled as he tilted his head.

Ken shoved his hands in his pockets, eyeing the toes of Akihiko's shoes. They were brown and polished. "Have you've spoken with Aragaki-san?"

"Shinji?" Akihiko's brows rose, surprised at the change in subject. The history between the two had been as turbulent as one could get. Three years ago Shinjiro Aragaki had lost control of his Persona, Castor, while battling a stray shadow in an urban area and Ken Amada's mother had paid the ultimate price. A shaken Ken had watched the entire tragedy before his eyes. He had vowed revenge and when it finally came down to it, my how the tables had turned. Akihiko continued on, resting his bag on the floor with its strap still in hand, "Yeah he's comes over and helps cook a meal and then we head on over to visit _her_."

Ken blinked up at Aki; his brown eyes were so big. "Kieka?"

"Still calling her that, eh?" Akihiko feigned a glare as he placed his hands on his hips, tapping the toe of shoe on the pavement, people fumbling toward the trains before they departed around them.

"Let's not argue over this. The past is the past, right?" Ken meekly smiled as he ducked his head, clutching the straps to his backpack tightly.

Akihiko merely nodded in agreement, his smile growing dim. "That it is…"

Ken licked his lips, his eyes shyly meeting the man before him. His voice was full of uncertainty and hope. "Do, do you mind if I come along?" He bit his lip, "It'd be nice to go as a group, don't you think?"

The timidity of the question softened Akihiko's stance, the tension he hadn't been aware of in his shoulders faded away, as he regarded Ken with empathetic eyes. His smile had faded slightly, though compassion was etched so clearly in his expression. "I was going to head to Hagakure for a bite, but why don't you come over and I can whip up a snack before Shinji arrives. We can both wait for him." His smile was sincere as was his offer.

"R-really!"

-!-!-!-!-

He couldn't believe he couldn't find it. Shinjiro had torn his room up and down and yet the precious item he always kept on his person or close by was gone. Vanished. Yet, the day had to continue on.

Groceries had been bought and the method of executing tonight's planned meal had been shifting through Shinjiro's thoughts methodically as he mindlessly drove toward Akihiko's apartment. His thumbs drummed along to the bass of a song, he had noticed the time realizing he was running late. Aki could wait and once the meal was prepared he was more than sure this one minuscule grievance would be forgotten with each bite Akihiko devoured.

Aki, Shinjiro had noticed, was simple like that.

Tonight's meal, after much personal deliberation, had been carefully planned and thought out. The amount of protein, balanced nutrients, and ingredients had been meticulously considered, even the dessert. He had planned to roast a chicken with rosemary and thyme and a handful of fresh herbs he had picked up from the nearby farmer's market. As for the vegetables, he was still deciding what to do with the peas, corn, and carrots. The thought of a pea puree with a dash of mint stoked his cooking muse, for carrots he couldn't decide between a carrot pachadi or something simple like carrot rice. As for the corn… he thought something effortless would more than suffice: corn on the cob. The sudden interruption of a loud ringtone dispersed him of any delectable visions that lingered in his thoughts as he instinctively reached for his phone.

He was quite irritated. "Yeah?" Shinjiro answered, his eyebrow twitched slightly.

"Shinji," Akihiko's voice was laced with urgency.

His lips pursed in a firm line as he glared at the road, Shinjiro's grip on the wheel tightened, "Aki." The sudden sense of foreboding that made every muscle in his body tense in anticipation put him ill at ease.

"I need your help."

"What's happened? I might be a bit. Running late." Shinjiro hadn't anticipated that finding curry leaves would be such a hassle. A traffic light ahead turned red, and his car slowly and safely came to a halt. "So…?"

"O-oh that's good. Will you be here pretty soon?" There was a panicked yell in the background as Akihiko continued, as well as a muted crash, "As in walking in any minute?"

This couldn't be good. "Would I have bothered to pick up the phone?"

Weakly Aki chuckled, "Oh that makes sense. Can you get here pretty soon?" The continued frantic yelling was beginning to get on Shinji nerves. Then there was a high pitched scream among the words he was able to decipher, fire was among them.

"What's burning?" The light turned green, Shinjiro firmly planted his foot on the gas sending the vehicle screeching. His head was pounding and his palms grew sweaty. What's the worst that could happen? The apartment complex possibly burning down all around, people running everywhere, and chaos raining down all around those who stood by to watch. Shinji narrowed his eyes as he expertly weaved between lanes, carefully cutting off cars so he could be there in time. Just the thought that innocent helpless-

"Rice! I- I…! Fire extinguisher! That'll save it!" The voice through the phone sent his heart beat racing. They wouldn't! They couldn't! The sound of the extinguisher going off cracked Shinji's world in two.

"AKI, NO!" It was as if the will to live had suddenly been drained, his vehicle slowing in speed as if to match the sinking of his heart. Good food was wasted this day. Shinji raised his eyes to the heavens. The food would be missed. He would make amends.

"It's saved!" Aki sounded victorious.

Throwing his cell phone aside, the plastic practically scalding his flesh, he yelled, his voice full of frustration, "You _moron_!"

-!-!-!-!-

Neither Ken nor Akihiko dared to venture into the kitchen. The vengeful aura surrounding Shinjiro was enough to make the small hairs at the back of their necks stand on end. "Out of my way," he had managed to say, his barely contained voice had been one of pure ice; his knuckles had turned white from the intense grip he held his groceries in. The kitchen had been cleaned from top to bottom, and Shinji refused to cook until the level of cleanliness met his high standards. His eyes purposely averted the ruined food.

The meal he had prepared was delicious as always. The chicken had been tender and juicy, the flavor of the herbs delicately danced across their palates. The other two vigorously devoured their meal, the delicious dimension at their fingertips and plate lasting only as long as there was food to be eaten.

"So…" Shinji leaned back in his chair, arm lazily resting over the back, eyes accusingly shifting between the boxer and the young man, "someone gonna tell me how the hell someone gets a rice cooker on fire?" Aki and Ken pursed their lips together as they peered into what seemed like a bottomless void in their water filled cups. Water. Very interesting. It's very wet.

Neither one seemed to have the guts to answer the question. Frustrated, Shinji rolled his eyes as he scoffed.

Akihiko politely coughed, sipping his drink. He savored the moisture that touched his dry lips, "Sorry you weren't able to get that snack, Ken," Aki managed an apologetic smile.

"Huh? O-oh it's alright." He politely smiled as he ducked his head, his attention then turning toward the sulking man beside him. "I thought you were great before, but I guess culinary school still had a thing or two to teach you huh, Senpai?" Ken looked to Shinji with a shy expression.

"…Right." Shinjiro pushed himself away from the table, grunting as he stood. "Let's get outta here. I'd like to see Kieka _before_ midnight hits." He turned his back to them, shoving on his burgundy coat, pushing his arms through each sleeve.

"So… you guys come visit her every day?" Ken hopped to his feet, taking his empty plate with him to the kitchen.

Aki nodded, he followed Ken closely setting his finished dinner plate in the sink. "Yeah."

"Do you think she can tell?" The young boy looked to the floor as he made his way towards a waiting Shinjiro and the door.

Gently Akihiko ruffled Ken's hair, his smile was distant. He looked up to Shinji who regarded him with a grim stare, "That I don't know, but I'd like to think so."

Ken simply smiled in response, "Me too."

-!-!-!-!-

Though the snow had melted, the chill in the air was enough to seep and settle in ones bones. Not a cloud was in the sky, and the stars were free to twinkle and sparkle for all to see. The moon was waning from being full only a few nights prior, the almost complete orb hung harmless in the sky's inky canvas.

Akihiko wrapped his scarf around his neck and shoved his gloved hands in his pockets; the dull warmth wasn't enough to fend off the slight trembling that ran through his body.

"I see you still have it," Ken's voice was soft; his words had a melancholy edge to them. He cupped his hands around his mouth, blowing his warm breath onto his flesh. The warmth fought back against the chill for only a few moments.

The boxer's fingers touched the carefully knitted scarf, unable to feel the soft fabric thanks to the thin leather of his gloves that encased his hands. "It's precious to me."

"Kinda girly if you ask me," Shinji muttered, stomping his way past the shrine toward the grave apartments. Aki couldn't help but feel Shinjiro was in a hurry. Or he was agitated.

"Don't be like that Aragaki-Senpai. Kieka," Ken glanced at Akihiko, whose silver brow was arched. Ken sputtered on, "I mean uh Kieka-San made that for him." The two widened their stride, trying to keep up with the annoyed cook.

"Ah," he took off his beanie as he entered the building. "Is that so?"

"What the hell, Shinji?" Quickly Aki firmly gripped Shinjiro's shoulder, pulling him back to face him, frustration set in his eyes while Shinji's stoically met Aki's. "What's going on?"

The atmosphere was suddenly heavy. Troubled, Ken looked between the two, not entirely understanding what had been the cause. He wanted to say Kieka wouldn't want them fighting right before they go see her, or perhaps that she said she liked it best when she saw her friends smiling. He opted to keep his mouth firmly shut, not entirely sure his words would be welcomed.

"Look it ain't nothing, so don't go making a deal of it, okay?" The cook shoved Akihiko's hand off his shoulder. "Let's just go in." Shinji ascended the stairs, his boots harshly scraping along each step, leaving behind a stunned Akihiko.

Ken tugged on Aki's sleeve, doing his best to smile, "Whatever it is, I'm sure he'll be fine. Maybe it was because we wasted so much food, but he'll be fine. I know it."

Akihiko's tensed shoulders relaxed, his grim expression fading to small smile. "Perhaps he'll tell us when he's ready…"

"Let's go see her, Senpai." Ken led Aki up the stairs by his sleeve, his small fingers gripping the cloth gently, laughing a care free laugh. The cheerfulness echoed in the tight walls and all Akihiko could do was widen his smile in kind. A child's laughter was music.

Reaching their destination, Ken triumphantly hopped over the last step, standing on the threshold of the stairs with hands on his hips. "Let's do this." Briskly he made his way to Kieka's monitor; Shinjiro was leaning against the opposite wall, hands shoved in his pockets as he eyed the monitor. His expression was unreadable. Ken looked over his shoulder, his expression was timid. "Do you wanna go first, Senpai?"

Shinji merely shook his head and gave a shrug of his shoulder. "Nah, you go first. It's been longer for you than me or Aki. Want us to leave?" His brooding eyes looked to the staircase.

Shyly Ken looked to the screen, his eyes sweetly looking at Kieka's frozen smile. "Nah… It's ok."

Akihiko settled next to Shinjiro, slowly exhaling as he crossed his arms looking to the man beside him with a sidelong glance. Shinji simply ignored him.

Ken pressed the message option on the screen. "Hey, Kieka," the young boy's ears blushed, knowing he was purposely opening with a familiarity that Akihiko did not approve of while said man was behind him narrowing his eyes despite the lopsided grin on his face. "I'm sorry I haven't visited you as often as I'd like to. I hear Aragaki-Senpai and Sanada-Senpai have been doing a good job making sure you aren't lonely. It, it makes me so glad.

"I hope you can see how hard I've been working on being a young man you can be proud of." His small hands clasped themselves behind Ken's back, "I've grown a few inches since you last saw me. I mean… _really_ saw me." He pursed his lips together, thinking of what else to say. There was always so much.

"Has mom introduced herself to you, yet?" Shinji's eyes left the screen and settled on the crown of Ken's head. Ken continued on, "I'm sure you too are getting along fine. I hope she isn't boring you with weird and old stories." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "She always liked to embarrass me in front of the girls I always liked. Er…" Ken looked back, biting his lip as he held Aki's gaze. He looked as if he had spilled a treasured and guarded secret.

Akihiko simply cleared his throat, "I-it's okay Ken. I already knew." They all knew the young boy had had a one sided crush on the girl. Kieka had said as much, though there were times Ken would get carried away much to Aki's chagrin.

"You're not mad?"

The boxer gently shook his head, "I'm not mad." The lights in the hall flickered slightly. Perhaps the wiring was going bad.

Hesitantly, Ken stole a glance at Shinjiro who simply nodded to the boy, signaling he should continue on. He looked up to the monitor, licking his lips before he spoke. "Anyways, I hope you've taken notice of all the progress I've made. With you watching over me, I know I'll be able to do whatever I set my mind too." He laughed nervously, his face aflame and glad the older guys behind him couldn't see his blush. "Sorry for sounding so serious.

"Well," Ken rocked back on his heels, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie; his eyes lingered on Kieka Arisato's picture that remained on the lit screen. "I guess this is goodbye for now. I'll be back in a week or two. I promise." Hesitantly, he reached up with his left hand, his pointer finger lightly tapping the "end message" button.

Finished with his message, Ken looked back with a smile. "So who wants to go next?"

The older men simply looked at each other, Aki nodded to Shinji, gesturing with a hand for him to move forward. "Go on, I don't mind being last."

Shinjiro stared at the screen; the corners of his mouth were set in a deep frown. He sighed, closing his eyes. He slowly reopened them as he turned his gaze to Akihiko's. "Okay." He paused, taking off his beanie. His brown hair was slightly disheveled and wild. "I'd like to be alone though."

"Oh?" Akihiko's grey eyes flashed with worry. Ken remained silent.

"Respect a man's privacy, Aki." Shinjiro straightened his stance, his shoulders back, chin up. He wasn't taking no for an answer.

Aki slowly nodded, message received. "Alright, Ken and I will be waiting a floor down."

"Thanks," Shinjiro muttered.

-!-!-!-!-

The lights flickered momentarily; Aki rubbed his shoulder as he closed his eyes, doing his best to ignore the brief stuttering of electricity around him. Ken sat on the floor, his knees drawn in close to his chest.

"Tired?" Aki sat next to the boy, stretching out his long legs before him. Ken nodded, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

The telltale echoes of footsteps descending the stairs, stopping midway, sent the two scrambling to their feet. "Alright, Aki," Shinjiro's voice called from the staircase. "I'm done."

Aki jotted up the stairs, closely trailing behind Shinji. "Everything okay?"

"Yup." That Shinji. Always a talker.

Briskly Akihiko stepped front of the monitor, Ken and Shinjiro both leaned against the wall. He cleared his throat, pressing the message button quickly. Funny how weeks ago he had literally needed to be dragged here and now he couldn't wait for the evenings to come. "Hey, Kie-chan," his voice was full of warmth. "Ran into Ken earlier today so we thought it'd be a good idea for all of us to come together. Maybe next time we'll have the rest of the others join us." His smile deepened, "I'm sure you'd like that."

The lights flickered, Aki did his best to ignore it though he found it odd Kieka's screen was the only electronic thing in the building that remained constant. He shook his head, continuing on. "Remember how I told you I might be leaving the ring a few days ago? Well," his smile grew sheepish, "I decided it'd be best for now. I plan on keeping up with my training though, that won't ever change." He chuckled, rubbing a hand behind his neck. "Can't ever be too careful, right?"

Ken could hardly believe what he was hearing. He had always marveled Akihiko's strength and technique. Akihiko had remained undefeated in middle school as well as high school. From what he had heard, he had yet to lose a match in college.

"Shinjiro almost killed both Ken and I today," Akihiko bit his lip, trying hard not to laugh at the grunt he heard behind him. "We both broke Aragaki rule number two about cooking. Never waste food. There was no saving the rice though. You'd have laughed till you cried; it was," he laughed, "a pretty pitiful sight."

"Such a damn waste," Shinji muttered beneath his breath.

Aki continued, "I promise you I can cook, not as well as Shinji of course, but-"

"You burned rice, flaming and smoking, in a fucking rice cooker. Who the hell does that?" The memories were far, far too fresh in Shinji's mind.

"Anyways," Akihiko coughed, "we better get going." Once again, the lights began to flicker, the staccato flashing giving the boxer a headache. He rubbed his temple as he continued, "I love you, Kie-chan. And we'll see you again tomorrow." Once he tapped end message, the flickering stopped. Aki sighed, his head pounding.

"You okay, Senpai?"

"Just got a headache," His grey eyes lingered on the monitor, he thought it strange despite the odd outages that the only thing untouched would be that. "They really need to do something about the wiring here." Aki rolled back his shoulders, making his way toward the stairs. Ken and Shinji followed closely behind.

"Oh," Ken trotted beside Aki, "was there a power outage the last time you were here, Sanada-Senpai?"

"What?" Akihiko couldn't help but regard Ken with scrutiny; his brows knotted together as an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. "Didn't you see the lights flicker just moments ago?"

Ken shook his head, a queer expression on his face. "Uh, no."

Shinjiro tapped the back of Aki's head with a knuckle; Akihiko could only look back annoyed. "Maybe you need to hit the sack and get some shut eye. It's been a little trying… At least you're beginning to have decent meals for a change."

Akihiko sighed, "Maybe you're right." Perhaps it had all been his imagination. He couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't as simple as his mind playing tricks on him. He had worked under tight sleep hours before. Why the mind games now?

As they left, the three descending the stairs, the monitor silently displaying Kieka's picture flickered briefly. A deep blue light slowly began to glow, reflecting off the glass and marble, the mysterious source coming from down the hall. Kieka's picture continued to smile. The blue reflection seemed to caress her cheek.

* * *

_Thanks so much for your patience! :) Another chapter down! /flex I hope you all are enjoying the story so far! Looks like stuff might be happening! :O We shall see what may transpire! _

_As always, much love goes out to IceyCold: my best friend and beta. She keeps me on the straight and narrow. Keeping me focused on things that truly matter. Reading, writing, drawing, and remembering to have fun while doing it. I'll try and get the next chapter out before the end of the month. /crosses fingers. Of course we all know what can happen with the best laid plans. Anyways thanks so much for the kind reviews. I'M NOT WORTHY! /bow I'M NOT WORTHY! /bow_

_See you guys next chapter. ;)_


	3. Chapter 3: Disturbing the Dead

**Masks She Wore**

How far would you go to save the one you love? Would the secrets you unveil piece by devastating piece break away at your resolve? Would the truth beneath circumstance change your perspective and your overall decision to bring your beloved back? With doubt and uncertainty clouding your heart, would you be able to follow _one simple rule?_

_**Chapter 3: Disturbing the Dead **_

All he could see was white, a great nothing encompassing Akihiko in its immense void. He couldn't help but wince, the glaring brightness was almost too much for his eyes to bear. Hesitantly, he raised his hand, as if to shield his strained eyes from his harsh surroundings, an action he found to be quite futile. Aki could barely make out his flesh before him, his mouth slightly parting in surprise.

His feet held no purchase against any surface. Akihiko was suspended, drifting about helplessly amidst an ocean of nothing. He was cold. And very naked.

His ear twitched, a faint whisper of sorts barely touching the shell. Something was trying to get his attention, but what? Who? He whipped his head about, trying to discover the origin of the sound. To the left of him, the right of him, there was nothing to see, no place or person to look at. Nothing all around, and he was helpless, the only thing he could do was drift. And wait.

The air around him began to vibrate, subtle at first but slowly increasing in intensity, his skin becoming like bare gooseflesh as a pain slowly blossomed inside his head. The petals within were awakening and the ache was unbearable.

His body went rigid as a board, teeth clenched and every muscle in his body from head to toe tensed. He ached and cramped as muscles contracted and held fast, holding him still, paralyzed. Deeper the pain went, reaching from the base of his neck to just below his eye sockets. Akihiko wanted to scream.

The searing white pain branched out; each path parting and ensnaring within his skull. Each delicate tendril flexed, and without warning, each vein of cruel, hot pain curled. His lashes fluttered and his eyes rolled back as he was pushed over the edge, the pain reaching an agonizing crescendo.

Limbs were tangled with sweat damped sheets as he vaulted off the bed, falling to the floor. Reality was suddenly all around him. Slowly, he pushed himself up, resting on an elbow, ignoring the dull ache throbbing in his arms and knees. His breath was labored; chest heaving, heartbeat thundering in his ears, sweat trickling down his brow. Droplets of his sweat dripped to the floor, his bewildered eyes slowly taking in the hard floor beneath him.

It had all been so indescribable and he had no idea what to make of it. There had never been a dream in his life that had made him feel everything as if it had been there before him, inside his head tearing it apart. Dramatic nightmares had always been the norm for his psyche, but this… He wiped the sweat off his brow, combing his shaking fingers through his hair as he gulped for air.

There had been a voice, just as he was torn from the nightmare as he fell. He knew he had heard it. Rich and dark like velvet, that of a man, though there had been a slightly odd inflection weaved into the words as they were spoken.

_"You have my sincerest apologies."_

Gee thanks.

Wearily, he pushed himself back into a sitting position, sheets draped over his shoulder, arm resting on a propped up knee. He leaned his head back, resting his head against the comfort of his mattress, half lidded eyes catching the green blinking numbers of his alarm clock. His pale brow furrowed in response, it was only a few minutes after midnight.

-!-!-!-!-

Today had been a day for the gym. Usually, he preferred working out at home if he could, but there had been a few complaints from the people who rented the apartment below him. Apparently, they didn't take too kindly to him jump-roping or doing jumping jacks. Being at the gym, however, helped keep his mind busy and after the nightmare he had had the past night, he was quite thankful for that.

Akihiko started his day's workout with a quick jog on the treadmill, and then stayed on the elliptical machine for a good two hours, remembering to drink from the water bottle at his side from time to time. Sweat drenched his white shirt by the time two hours were up, the thin fabric hungrily clung to his frame accentuating the sculpted pectorals and abs that lay beneath; he wiped his face with a towel, looking around for what to do next.

Cooling down, he got on a bike and peddled for about fifteen minutes, ignoring the looks of the ladies who sat around him. Sigh. He lifted weights, silently counting as he performed each set. There were eight different weight training exercises he always made sure to hit: bench-press, squats, bicep curls, military press, crunches, calf raises, pull ups, and bench dips. He always tried to hit a full set of fifteen reps per training exercise. The small crowd of women around him, who were poorly feigning training as they hungrily eyed him, were _very_ thankful for his tenacious work out regime.

Once stretches were done, he had hit the showers. His muscles were sweetly sore and the hot water was more than welcome to run down the plains of his aching body. Soapy water slipped over his broad shoulders and lean waist, cascading in rivulets over the hardened muscles of his abdomen and down the length of his long legs. Akihiko groaned as he scrubbed an arm with a lathered washcloth, the dull pain in each limb reminding him of that old adage: no pain, no gain. Their ache was only a constant reminder he needed to push himself harder.

Just as he had finished dressing, violins began to play from his gym bag. His eyebrow arched as he reached for his cell, ruffling his belongings. A flick of his wrist expertly opened the phone. He lowered his eyes as he mechanically pulled on his leather gloves, stretching his fingers so the leather comfortably hugged his skin. "Yes?"

"Akihiko, we have a problem."

That certainly got his attention. He pushed himself away from his closed locker, cautiously looking around for signs of anyone nearby. The tone in her voice troubled him, his sense of foreboding earlier settling heavily in the pit of his stomach, oh those silly nightmares. "Mitsuru? What's the issue?" His voice was even and hushed, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He had recognized the strained tone to her voice. Something had happened. Something bad.

Her shaky intake of breath shuddered in his ears, "Arisato's ashes have gone missing."

What?

The world suddenly felt like it was spinning. He fell back against a wall, ignoring the pain as he pushed himself back up, staring at his phone in disbelief. He closed his eyes, his mouth feeling dry as the words tried to escape his hesitant lips. "What? What do you mean gone missing?" Aki's hand covered his eyes, wanting this to be nothing more than Mitsuru's idea of a tasteless joke, though he knew better. Mitsuru wasn't the sort of woman to spout unnecessary nonsense at the expense of others.

"My sources say it happened in a matter of minutes," she did her best to control her voice, the words were spoken evenly and precise, though her worried edge bit at each syllable. "Approximately 12:01am to 12:04am."

Grunting, he bit back an oath, rolling his eyes in bitter frustration as he hit the wall with the back of his head. He, Ken, and Shinjiro, each of them had been _right _there that night. Akihiko frantically searched through his memories, trying to remember anything that stood out in particular, anything that was out of the ordinary. The boxer clenched his fists, closing his eyes tightly. There had only been one thing that had bothered him that night, the only thing that he wasn't able to explain away. The flickering of the lights…

He had been the only one to notice that one oddity, something he had half-heartedly written off as his mind simply playing tricks on him.

The fact that the three of them had been at the grave apartments that particular night, for all Akihiko knew, while the thief had been waiting in the shadows, out of their sights biding his time to slip in, enraged him. How could they be so careless? Why hadn't they remained vigilant?

The trembling in his voice said it all. "You have got to be kidding me. Damn it…" Akihiko glared at the lockers ahead of him, slamming his fist into the wall behind him. He ignored the pain; all he could think of was Kieka. Could she not even be allowed rest on this side of the world as well? Silver eyes flashed with dangerous intent. If he found the thief, if he was able to get his hands on them, he would, he would…

Mitsuru continued on, breaking Akihiko from his dangerous thoughts, "From what I've gathered, this was no ordinary perpetrator. I have received reports that there was no sign of a break in. Whoever it was…they were definitely skilled." He could hear the faint whisper of papers being shifted about through her line. "The glass and locks of the doors were still intact, as if untouched, and the security cameras were somehow cut off momentarily during the theft."

He fumbled around for his gym bag, tossing his remaining personal effects into the bag as he replied. "Your people have combed the place?" Pulling the zipper of his bag closed, he quickly picked it up and made his way out of the building. His stride was quick as he maneuvered his exit as fast as possible. He wanted to see, no, he _needed_ to see what was going on. Perhaps he could find something that the Kirijo Group had missed. Though, honestly, it was all wishful thinking on his part. These weren't lazy hired hands bullshitting on a job. These people were professional: tedious, observant, and the very best in their fields.

"If my people know anything about losing what is precious to me, they know far too well that there will be certain consequences if even the smallest indiscretion is not investigated to the fullest. Failure in retrieving the urn and uncovering the thief's identity is not an option." Indeed, it wasn't and there was nothing anyone feared most than an "execution" at the hands of Mitsuru Kirijo. Akihiko, Junpei, and… the late Ryoji had had firsthand knowledge of said punishment.

Akihiko would never forget it for as long as he lived.

Failure was something that could not be tolerated, not when her company had been on the verge of collapse. With her guidance, the Kirijo Group had recovered over the course of a year. She had proven she had a firm grip on the reigns of her family's legacy. She was as fair as she was stern, and she held on to the ethics and ideals of her father with a fierce tenacity. It was the least she could do to honor the man and his memory.

Pushing his way out through the gym exit, Akihiko fought the strong urge to run toward the subway. He desperately wanted to go to the shrine. Badly. "Need me to do anything?"

"I will be a bit longer here than I would like, can you call the others and set up a meeting at the old dormitory?"

Aki had just barely begun his way to his destination until the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He stopped in his tracks. The unsettling feeling of someone watching him shivered up and down his spine. Akihiko looked to and fro, people walked mindlessly around him, ignoring him as they continued on with their mundane lives. He looked to the nearby trees, windows of shops nearby. He spotted no one.

The grip on his phone tightened, his leather gloves squeaking in protest. The boxer was as still as a statue as the afternoon crowd moved past him as if he were a mere pole to be dodged. "Akihiko?" Mitsuru sounded concerned.

His words were slow in response, his eyes scanning the area. He saw nothing out of place. His words were slow and careful, "Yeah I'll get right on it. What time would you suggest?" He rubbed his neck as he looked behind him toward the gym, doing what he could to calm his nerves. Shaking off his apprehension, he continued his way toward the subway.

"Regrettably, it will have to be much later than I would like." The woman's sigh was soft through the phone, "7pm will have to suffice for now. I," She hesitated, "haven't told anyone other than you about what has transpired. Please keep this between us until everyone is present at the meeting."

The corners of his lips were gently pulled up into a small smile, "I see." His lashes lowered as he considered her words. "Thank you for telling me, Mitsuru. I mean it."

"Knowing how close you two became while she was with us, I thought you of all people should be notified before everyone else." He could hear more papers being shuffled about, he could picture her scanning each page for relevant information. "There is something, however, that has been bothering me."

"And that is?"

"Why would someone go through the trouble of stealing her ashes? The only people who knew about her abilities were Ikutsuki and the other S.E.E.S. members. Of all the remains to pilfer, why hers? To anyone else, she was just a simple high school student who passed on suddenly."

Kieka was smiling at him, her chestnut colored pony tail was tickling the nape of her neck as it swayed in the breeze. Her deep red eyes looked at him expectantly in his mind's eye. His voice was low, the words stumbling out. "A person of no importance."

Mitsuru continued to speak, "And furthermore, there is no evidence of tampering. The only area disturbed was the destroyed remains of the compartment that housed the ashes of Arisato."

"I don't like the feeling I'm getting."

"It is most disconcerting. We'll get to the bottom of this. I'll see you at the appointed time, Akihiko. Until then."

Akihiko ascended the stairs to the substation, quickly going through his S.E.E.S. contacts on his phone. He'd call who he had to before boarding the train.

-!-!-!-!-

He jogged up the steps of Naganaki Shrine, ignoring those who were there wishing to find true love or strike it rich. Next to the shrine the grave apartments stood. Men and women clad in starched black suits went in and out of the building like ants, investigating anything that may have been overlooked. Akihiko slowed in his steps as he neared the entrance, one of the suited men walking forward to meet him. The man was tall and broad shouldered, his short red hair was neatly combed to the side, and his eyes were hidden behind designer shades, lens as black as the suit he wore.

Akihiko wasn't impressed.

"Civilians aren't permitted inside while we're conducting investigations," the man's voice was terse and to the point. His thoughts were written all over him: it wasn't enough that they weren't able to find anything that could prove crucial to Mitsuru, but now civilians dared trespass and muddy things further?

Pointing a gloved finger to the man's pocket, Akihiko stared him down with a frown. He had expected as much but he wasn't one to back down, especially when he wanted to see things for himself. "Call Mitsuru Kirijo. Tell her Akihiko Sanada wants to look around."

With a smirk, Suit just shook his head. "Nice try," he pointed toward the shrine, nodding at its location. "Head down to the shrine and wait there with all the others."

Aki refused to break eye contact as he took out his phone, dialing Mitsuru's number and calmly holding it to his ear. If this was how Suit wanted to play, fine, he'd play along. Nothing was keeping Aki out, and he'd get his way in at any cost.

"Mitsuru." As the name passed his lips, Suit crossed his arms, wrinkles forming along the arms of his pristine suit jacket. "Trying to head into the grave apartments but I'm afraid I'm being stopped at its entrance. I'd like permission to enter the site." A triumphant smile spread across his lips as he narrowed his eyes at the man before him. "Thank you, Mitsuru. I'll see you tonight." With that, he flipped his phone shut as he calmly returned it to his pocket.

"Look I understand you'll try and trick your way in, but this is a serious investigation," Suit gestured behind him, "Something bad has happened and we're trying to get to the bottom of it. You understand right?"

Akihiko tilted his chin up, standing straight and not backing down. "Oh, I understand alright. That's why I'm here."

Suit just shook his head, a stray hair falling over his sunglasses. "Right, Get out o-"

"Akihiko Sanada?" A woman dressed in the same black suit attire emerged from the background. She looked disinterestedly between the two. She clearly wasn't a fan of male pissing contests. "You can come in. Miss Kirijo has given her 'okay.'" The woman placed a firm hand on Suit's shoulder, guiding him back so Akihiko could pass by.

With a smug smile, Aki walked past the two and entered the building.

Slipping beyond the doors and heading up the stairs had sobered his triumph in more ways than one. Suits were investigating everywhere. Hearing that they had been so tedious yet unable to turn up the slightest hint had initially unnerved him, but now seeing it all before his grey eyes made the feeling so much worse.

The first thing he noticed after crossing the threshold of the stairs was Kieka's destroyed compartment. Pieces of glass and marble littered the floor; metal was bent outward as if something had effortlessly twisted it as though it had been mere wet clay. The square compartment that had housed her ashes was laid bare for all to see. The touch screen that had once displayed Kieka's smiling picture flawlessly now only showed static. Her picture briefly made appearances through the static, though the technical hiccups were far too quick to catch a decent look at the picture that had once been there. The wiring more than likely had been damaged thanks to the break in.

Slowly, he made his way to the damaged compartment, careful of the debris at his feet. The fact that all this had been done in a matter of three minutes was sobering. Whoever, whatever, had smashed its way to retrieve its prize was someone…something… of great strength and speed, there was no denying that. But he couldn't understand their reason. _Why? _Why go through the trouble? Why only her ashes? What could have done all this?

He tilted his head as he examined what he could, trying to make sense of the scene before him. He rubbed at his temples, trying his best to ignore the Suits around him. They unnerved him too much to let him think clearly, and so he allowed his gaze to follow one of them as they walked down the wall to talk to another. His brow furrowed, something had caught his attention.

At the end of the hall there was a door, a door he knew hadn't been there before. Knowing how the building appeared inside and out, it made no sense that it would be placed there. The door, if opened, would only lead to the outside. Anyone stepping through it would plummet a few stories, break a limb, and at the very worst die from such a fall. He noticed that beneath the door there was nothing but impenetrable darkness, it not giving any quarter to hint at what may hide beyond.

Making his way toward the door, he noticed no one even acknowledged it. The Suits ignored the door completely. Curious; did they not want to investigate it? Did no one find it odd that it was there? Did no one question its location? Gingerly he placed his palms flat upon its smooth surface. His mouth slightly parted in surprise. It was freezing. Colder than what it actually was outside. He reached for the handle, giving the silver knob a gentle twist.

Akihiko frowned. Of course it was locked. Nothing could ever be easy.

"We've already inspected the wall." The boxer abruptly pushed himself away from the door, quickly looking at the stray Suit behind him. The man was young, with green eyes and dark hair tied back at the base of his neck. "We've found that there was no way the thief could have come through there. No secret door, no hole to slip through." The man slashed his hand across the air, as if doing so would prove a point. "Nothing."

"No… door?" Akihiko's eyebrow twitched, turning his gaze back toward the door behind him. It was still there, still locked, and even more puzzling to him.

The suited man gently walked to stand beside him, gloved fingers sliding up and down the surface of the wall. Akihiko stared in wonder as the man ignored what was clearly before him. Was he blind? Pulling a joke on him in poor taste? "See?" The man brought his closed fist up and gently tapped on the door's surface. The sound was not that of polished wood, but of the marble that had been there before. The noise faintly echoed in the hall.

Akihiko blinked.

The young boxer forced a smile, the expression not meeting his eyes as he conceded to the man, "Point taken." There was no doubt about it; he was losing his mind, seeing things that he couldn't un-see. There was nothing left for him here he thought, turning on his heels and heading for the stairs.

-!-!-!-!-

"The hell you mean her ashes were taken?" Shinjiro was pacing back and forth behind the couch the ladies (Fuuka, Yukari, and Mitsuru) were sitting on. Both hands frantically ran through his dark, coarse hair, his teeth bared in a pained grimace.

"It is as I said." Mitsuru sat on the edge of the couch with her legs crossed at her ankles; her manicured hands were lying neatly in her lap. She looked at Akihiko while she spoke, though her words were meant for Shinjiro. "In the middle of the night, minutes after midnight, someone managed to slip in and steal her remains. There are no signs of a forced entry, no evidence at all that someone broke into the building, save for her missing remains and the destroyed door to her ashes compartment."

"Destroyed?" Fuuka clutched at the fabric of her shirt as she looked around the room taking in the other's reactions to the sad news. Junpei was on the same level of angry as Shinjiro, seething as he sat on the sofa across them. Ken was sitting in the armchair gritting his teeth as he clenched his tiny fists. Akihiko was staring outside the window adjacent to them all, his back turned to them.

"Yes. The door itself was utterly destroyed." Mitsuru pushed back a stray lock of burgundy hair behind an ear with a delicate finger, "Pieces of it were littered in and around the compartment's surroundings."

Launching from his seat, Junpei towered over Mitsuru. Impassively, she stared back at him, unfazed by the anger rolling off him in waves. "Why? Why did you wait until _now_ to tell us?" His hand swept around, "It ain't like this was something you just happened to find out on the way home from work." He adjusted his blue cap as he glowered at the woman. Hadn't they all deserved to know what was going on from the get go?

"I waited," She arched an eyebrow at him, the dangerous intent in her eyes urging Junpei to sit back down. He ignored it, "because I thought I would have additional information to give you by the time I arrived." She lowered her eyes to her hands that rested serenely in her lap, hating that she had so little to offer. "Unfortunately, those assisting me from the Kirijo group and Kurosawa-san had nothing else to offer."

With both hands, Shinjiro grabbed onto the sofa, his knuckles turning white from the intense grip. "That's bullshit," he growled, glaring holes into the back of Mitsuru's head.

Quickly, she rose to her feet, standing as regal as an empress. There was a stoic gleam to her eyes, and it was clear her patience was running thin. "It is what I have!" She hated not having all the answers for them, especially when she was the one that felt it was her duty to let everyone know despite that. Mitsuru cleared her throat, straightening her sleeves as she eyed them all, "However, that doesn't mean there isn't anything we aren't capable of discovering on our own."

Junpei sank back down in his seat, the upper half of his face hidden by the flap of his baseball cap, tapping his fingers against the armrest in agitation. "Oh yeah? And what do you want us to do?" He barked, "Play detective?"

Akihiko briefly looked over his shoulder.

"Precisely." Mitsuru nodded, crossing her arms as she mused, "We _have_ to see what information is attainable within our own resources." She looked to them all with pleading eyes, "Something is out there. We may not have a lead but I am confident we will find it and it will surely lead us to Arisato."

Yukari offered Junpei a smile, trying to render some cheer with her words, "It'll be just like last year, Junpei. Instead of investigating ghost stories it'll be investigating urn snatching."

"No it won't," was his simple reply.

The boxer stood by Mitsuru, placing a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently with his fingers, "Shinji and I can stake out Port Island Station." If Shinjiro had heard what Akihiko had said, he made no show of it as he leaned against the wall away from them.

"Then I guess Junpei and I will see what we can find at school." Junpei nodded absentmindedly with Yukari's suggestion.

Ken slid off his chair, the anger that had coiled within him seeming to subside for now. He leaned forward, hands flat on the coffee table as he looked up at the young head of the Kirijo Group. "I'll see what I can find around town." A smirk played along his lips, "It's amazing what adults will say when they think no one is listening."

Mitsuru looked to Fuuka, the shy girl straightened in her seat. "Fuuka I want you to see what you can dig up. Anything at all as long as it is relevant."

"Y-yes, Senpai!"

Their roles decided, they each left the dorm. Shinjiro and Akihiko had decided to head to the Port Island Station right away. Shinji was silent during the ride, even going as far as shutting off the radio in his car. Aki could only stare out the window, hoping against all odds that they'd find at least something. Anything.

-!-!-!-!-

There had been nothing. Not a single trace of information that could be linked back to the urn's whereabouts. A few rumors of note had begun to circulate about who was bold enough to anger the dead, but those had quickly lost all legitimacy once their whereabouts during that particular evening were investigated. In the end, day one of investigating turned up nothing of importance.

Akihiko had returned to his empty apartment, defeated. Not even in death could Kieka find peace. He hoped her remains stayed safe, still intact in the urn. Perhaps it was a harmless prank and the next day her ashes would suddenly reappear. He could only hope.

The lone man slid his coat off his arms, hanging it on the hook by his door. With weary limbs, he slowly began to discard his clothing, pulling his shirt over his arms, his abs rippling as he did so. He walked toward his bed, tossing the piece of clothing toward his hamper. He rubbed his hands over his arms, his biceps firm beneath his touch, lowering them down his lean sides till his fingers met the waist of his pants. His belt buckle was unclasped and zipper undone, khaki pants sliding down his long toned legs forming a pool of clothing atop his socked feet.

He stretched his arms to the ceiling, muscles flexing and moving beneath his pale skin. He rolled his head around his shoulders, easing today's stress from his body as he walked over to his dresser. He leaned to the side as he pulled open a drawer, taking out a nightshirt and thin cotton pants for the night.

The fabric felt cool and fresh against his skin as it slid into place over his form. Gingerly, he lowered himself onto his bed, the plush mattress beneath yielding to his weight. With a sigh, he shifted onto his back, cradling his head with his arms. His curtains were slightly parted, the lamplight from outside had yet to turn on, allowing him a small view of stars that dusted the dark sky beautifully.

A pained expression flitted over his features, his brow furrowing and the corners of his lips drawing into a deep frown. Even in death Kieka could have no peace, and he hated the powerlessness that it held over him.

What were the chances that her ashes remained intact within the urn? Would they find it within a matter of days? Weeks? Months? He wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and have the answer unveiled before him. He wanted her back safe, restored… alive. He closed his eyes, the shaky exhale coming unexpected.

The thick veil of his lashes parted; there was no longer the view of a window and curtains teasing him with a starry nightscape. Instead, his tired eyes met slanted, half-lidded, lemon hued eyes. They scanned Akihiko's features coldly, as if calculating his worth.

His fist flew out fast toward the stranger, adrenaline thundering through his veins while gritting his teeth. The man caught it effortlessly within a snowy white glove, his handsome features unflinching, trapping Akihiko beneath him as he reached over and smoothly caught the boxer's other arm.

"Who the hell are you!" Akihiko struggled, baring his teeth in an angry snarl, steel eyes flashing dangerously. He hated that the man above him held him down with what appeared to be no effort at all. Aki was by no means a weak man, not at all. "Get off me!"

The man above him stared impassively over Aki. His white hair was neatly combed back, and a velvet blue bellboy hat sat on his head. He wore an obsidian black shirt, the starched jacket and tie matching the rich color of his hat. The stranger's hips pinned Aki in place, his powerful hands holding his prisoner's wrists firmly to the plush mattress beneath them. He leaned in, inhaling deeply; Akihiko's lip curled up in anger, frustration.

Just as Akihiko was anticipating doing what Shinji did best, the stranger's words halted Akihiko's struggling mid head-butt. His dulcet toned words were laced with satisfaction, hands sliding up the boxer's arms and shoulders, gently cupping Akihiko's cheeks as a tender smile spread across his perfectly sculpted lips.

"I smell her on you."

* * *

_Dun dun dunnnnnnn! Things are starting to pick up! Ashes are gone! Shinji is super pissed! Aki is being held down by a hot Theodore! Whatever will happennnnn!_

_Major thanks go to the readers and reviewers. Thanks so much for such sweet praise I am so undeserving of. Akihiko is probably blushing from how often I envisioned his naked body as I tried to put it all down in words. :3 **Yum**._

_Much love goes out to IceyCold, my best friend and beta and my muse. She keeps my head leveled and down to earth before it escapes to the clouds, never to return._

_I hope you all enjoy this latest installment! Until next chapter. :D_

_LW_

_edit: Drew this little companion picture to go along with this chapter! Eheheheheehe go to ladywinde(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/I-Smell-Her-On-You-181111938_

Just replace the (dot)s with . 

_:3_


End file.
